Mistletoe Kisses

The idea that he might be sad lodges in my gut for several reasons. I don’t know why he would be sad, for one, but it seems like the majority of the possible reasons my mind spawns on the spot involve me. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him since I left him here with his sister the other night. We’ve seen each other in class, of course, and he’s been distant, sure, but I didn’t think anything of it. I’m not an idiot; I know he can’t openly pay extra attention to me in class or people would get suspicious.

I reach out, absently placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little rub. “Is everything okay?”

His nod feels a touch noncommittal and he doesn’t offer any verbal reassurance.

Unconvinced, I frown. “Are you sure?”

Rather than answer me again, he turns his attention to peeling off my coat. I try to shove away my concerns about his mood—no point spoiling our night together overthinking it. If something is wrong, then I’ll find out sooner or later.

For now, I’m going to believe everything is okay. After all, I’m here with Cal on a cozy December evening, and if all goes according to plan, we’ll spend a good portion of this night cuddled up naked together in his bed.

If that’s not a reason to smile, I don’t know what is.

“Are you hungry?” Cal asks as he walks away with my coat.

“Mm, I sure am,” I answer, lingering in the kitchen. “Are we going to make dinner again tonight?”

Cal walks back in. “Maybe if you survive your lesson.”

He sounds a little more enthused at the mention of our lesson. I wasn’t sure we were even going to keep up that farce. Obviously he never really invited me over here because he thought I needed help.

Just in case he doesn’t know I figured that out, I ask, “You still wanna do that?”

“We have to find out what happens next in the book, don’t we?”

I shrug, following him down the hall. I don’t mind at all, I just figured we could move on to the date portion of this evening now that he’s had his mouth on my most intimate parts.

A sense of happiness steals over me as he brings me into his bedroom again. I’m less interested in the desk tonight and much more interested in the bed. Since we’re in lesson mode, I up the demureness and look over at him.

“May I make a request, Sir?”

Pleasure dances in his eyes and he offers a brusque nod.

Eyes dancing with playful mischief, I ask, “Can we have the lesson on the bed instead of at your desk? I’ll still read to you, I’ll just be a little more comfortable that way.”

“Perhaps,” he says evenly. “What will you do for me if I do that for you?”

Feeling a little brazen given my plans for the evening, I hold his gaze and offer back, “Anything you wan

t me to do.”

Just saying those words to him causes my arousal to stir, and I can see from the hard look in his darkening eyes, he feels the same way.

Now that we’re alone, I bend to put my purse on the ground, then I begin to unbutton the navy-colored cardigan I wore during the school day. Cal’s gaze follows my fingers as they work the small buttons up top, slowly revealing the swell of cleavage underneath.

I only make it to the third button, then Cal suddenly moves in front of me. He towers over me and sends a shiver down my spine, but he’s not looking at my face to see my reaction. His gaze is locked on my breasts, his mission to get to them so single-minded, he grabs my sweater and rips it open the rest of the way.

I gasp, half expecting to see buttons flying, but my sweater seems to have survived the ordeal. I’m not sure, I don’t have time to check. Once he has me unbuttoned, he spins me around, pulling me back against him, and runs his hands from my shoulders down my arms before locking one arm around me, squeezing my breasts as he holds me tightly against him.

“I can’t fuck you, Noelle,” he states, as if he can see my hopes for the evening in what I’m wearing.

He probably can, so I don’t bother denying it.

“Why not?” I ask softly, my tummy fluttering as I feel the heat radiating off his body and seeping into mine.

“It wouldn’t be right.”

I almost think he’s joking about his reason, so I glance back at him. “What do you care about that?”